


night sky

by volna (seductrce)



Series: Kurodai week 2016, or: ways Sawamura sees Tetsu [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dudes Being Bros, M/M, Stargaze, ehhhhhhh??? they .....go swimming.......?, kurodaiweek day 3: holidays/travel even tho its none of those really lmao, ride bikes, smh @ self, stuff like that, yk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6426484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seductrce/pseuds/volna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kuroo mans up for a few days in miyagi and daichi likes adventure</p>
            </blockquote>





	night sky

_On a dark night you lie with me in a field that bloomed in cornflowers two months before_  
_I point at the sky to distract myself_  
_Dying, diamonds align in a different way, I remember_  
_I watched the moon once_  
_And thought of you_  
_I do it again_  
_Your fingers cross mine, our knuckles are stars_  
_Oh, lover_  
_The grass is flat where your body lay_

*

  
With a splash he breaks, and silence loosely knit like fishing nets quietens the world down. The water around Daichi is clear and almost azure when he opens his eyes; for a few seconds he forgets where he is and imagines this to be a lagoon on some tropical island, blinding white beaches, skyscraper palms, desperate fingers down his chest. He blinks through the rays of sunlight breaking in the water, exhales slowly to avoid bubbles, and lets his arms pull a lazy strike. Any moment now…  
  
Sure enough, seconds later Daichi’s frame of vision is taken when a long body cuts the water’s surface few feet from him, almost too elegant, almost not human. Kuroo’s torso stretches into the non-existent depths of the lake - more of a horizontal dive than a vertical one; moments later he’s swum towards Daichi and grins at him with cheeks full of trapped oxygen.  
He looks ridiculous and Daichi nearly ends up trading living for laughter as Kuroo grabs his hands and pulls him up towards the light glittering on the uneven mirror surface above them.Their feet tangle swimming up and the breath Daichi gasps for when they finally come free, heads sticking out of the water, bobbing around, is much needed in many ways.  
  
Birds are singing up to a golden July sun. The wind rustling the tree tops on the bankside is strawberry sweet and gentle and warm, like neighborhood pavement on the evening of a hot summer’s day. Kuroo’s hair is wet, sticking to his face. He runs a hand through it to push his bangs back, little streams of lake running down his forearm. Daichi’s chest hurts with an unexplicable dull ache.  
“What,” Kuroo asks, grinning, taking in a mouthful of water to whistle it in Daichi’s direction. His aim is off, the gust doesn’t even come close to Daichi’s face. Water drops are sitting like diamonds in his hair. Sometimes Daichi wonders why he keeps on noticing these little things, why they make him feel like he might be sick in a good way, but if he’s honest, he knows why.  
  
“You like it, dont you,” he asks back, ignoring Kuroo’s question and smirks because this has been one of his better ideas. Kuroo raises a brow at him, almost amused, moving around in the warm water and only then does Daichi realize that his right hand is still in Kuroo’s left one, that Kuroo has never let go.  
  
“I never said I wouldn’t like to see you get wet.”  
  
It’s an awful joke, Daichi chokes and spits laughter. Kuroo is still holding his hand underwater. “Not like you’re seeing much,” he answers when his lungs let him, because why should Daichi not get to play this game for once?  
  
Kuroo’s gaze, then, grows heavier, drops to a place somewhere just below Daichi’s eyes. Within a moment, he grabs Daichi’s wrist instead of his hand and suddenly moves closer. Daichi can feel the steady beat of Kuroo’s legs against his to keep afloat, the silky feeling of fingers around his quickened pulse and the sudden, almost painful jump in his chest as his heart changes location and knocks the breath out of him, yet again.  
Kuroo’s face is closer now, too close: Kuroo’s mouth, Daichi registers in a panic, is absolutely within kissing range; that is when Kuroo’s free thumb smoothes over the wetness on the high of Daichi’s cheek.  
  
“You had something…dark there…” Kuroo murmurs, under his breath, but it doesn’t have to be louder - Daichi can feel Kuroo’s exhale against his soon-to-be blue lips, can’t help but have his own puff against Kuroo’s.  
  
Kuroo’s gaze drops farther and Daichi is accutely aware of it, of all the touching: Kuroo’s knees are pushing against his, the water is insignificant between them, the sun throws a shade over Kuroo’s eyes, masking them unreadable.  
Underwater fingers are burning when they move into the spaces between Daichi’s, above water fingers are burning on Daichi’s jaw, tipping his chin up as gently as if they were lifting a budding rose.  
  
Daichi closes his eyes when Kuroo tilts his head and pulls him in by their linked hands. There is an exhale against his mouth, heavy with proximity and heat and the scent of the grapes they had devoured on the way here and then, all of a sudden: nothing.  
It is like waking up from a dream. Daichi’s eyes fly open and Kuroo is gone.  
  
A mild sense of panic immediately begins to tingle in Daichi’s stomach, his arms paddling around wildly, when, out of nowhere, something tugs on his shorts from behind, almost pulling them down. He yelps loud enough to wake a town, turns, the water splashes in a messy fountain around him, and then Kuroo’s laugh rings loudly from some few feet away, him having finally emerged from the water he had dived into. “You should have seen your face!”  
  
“You ASSHOLE,” Daichi bursts out, ears burning, throws a handful of water in Kuroo’s direction to effectively blind and dives right after to reach him in time. Kuroo’s head goes under water and so does Daichi’s shortly after, and when they both come up, laughing and spitting water and coughing up their lungs from both, they are just friends again.  
  
*  
  
The sun is a big round orange ball sitting a handspan above the place where the glowing earth blends into the reddening sky. The wind is a playful friend, a gentle lover. The tips of Daichi’s hair are blown out of his face by its mellow speed. Golden straws of wheat in the abundant growth of rural summers throw long strands of whispering shade across their path. The pedals move freely under Daichi’s feet.  
  
“Can’t believe we’ve been at the lake for this long, it felt like…an hour? Tops…!”  
  
Kuroo is punching into the pedals of his own bike right next to Daichi, not looking as uncomfortable anymore as he did this morning, when Daichi had pulled two bikes out of his family’s garage, grinning at the look of horror on Kuroo’s face, at his gentle, almost scared whisper of “what…on earth…are those…”  
  
Their pace is leisure, meant for enjoyment more than anything else.  
  
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Daichi suggests, smiling innocently, knowing for certain that Kuroo’s gaze will land on him.  
He can feel it, when Kuroo looks at him, nowadays…it’s like brushes of warmth pulling streaks across his face, smoothing the shaking in his shoulders, taking the pain out of his back. It is the opposite of uncomfortable.Daichi doesn’t stare back.  
  
They had spent their morning checking out the old village some few miles east of town, eating ice-cream sitting on the steps leading to the shrine, and taking the river-side road to cycle farther into the countryside, feeling like they were twelve again, full of curiosity and imagination and thirst for adventure.  
Their backpacks had grown lighter around noon, when they had decided to lunch on sandwiches Daichi’s mom had prepared under some tall lush oaks growing by the fast-running water before making their way to the secret pond Daichi had discovered with Ikejiri the summer before he turned eleven.  
It was hot this time of year and the trees were a vibrant green and Daichi’s stories almost made Kuroo choke on a mouthful of bread and lettuce.  
Daichi couldn’t remember the last time laughing had felt like the easiest thing in the world. It was too simple around him. He couldn’t stop. Every little mundane thing, somehow, conjured up giggles in Daichi’s chest, bubbling away and growing into full fits of laughter with every joke Kuroo told.  
The water had glittered like precious stone and Kuroo was surprisingly good at catching grapes with his mouth, Daichi had found out, surprisingly good at making Daichi laugh.  
When Daichi had cried, lying on his back in a sea of grass, arms outstretched, unable to breathe, it had not been from sadness.  
  
“Guess you’re right again, Sawamura,” Kuroo says and Daichi can hear the grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, the teasing edge to his voice.  
  
He pedals a little harder, gains speed, thinks of Kuroo almost kissing him in the lake, and throws his arms out to the sides letting go of the handlebar, whooping, cheering freely. There is no way he can keep these feelings inside and not end up bursting like a watermelon thrown down from second floor, red filling spilling and all.  
  
“OI!” Kuroo yells, struggling a little, and Daichi laughs even louder.  
  
“Come on! I want to show you something!”  
  
Daichi lets Kuroo catch up to him, pushes himself out of his seat into a standing position and turns left, away from the wheat field and the path home down a little rocky road between two endless meadows of high grass and blooming wild flowers. Kuroo, turning into the sharp curve, chortles breathlessly and follows a few feet behind, the sounds out of his mouth going wibbly-wobbly as the two of them race down the uneven track.  
  
After a few minutes, the surrounding trees make way and Daichi stops at the edge of a clearing. The grass is naturally kept short here, a bunch of small wild-growing blue flowers line the skirt where the real forest begins. A trickling creek, narrow enough to jump over if one’d try, gurgles joyfully in the evening light on the other side. The sun is glimmering weakly through the young trees beyond the stream and Kuroo, next to Daichi, sets his feet down and looks around in wonder.  
  
“Don’t have something like that in Tokyo, do you?”  
  
Daichi doesn’t mean to sound gloating but there’s something sitting in the place his heart should be that makes him want to be…almost a bit mean. Not really, but enough to tease, enough to keep Kuroo’s attention where he wants it and when Kuroo looks back at him, eyes shining, damp shirt sticking to his back, the feeling in Daichi’s gut makes him come close to vomiting from smiling too hard. What on earth was going on with him, anyway?  
  
“Not that I know of,” Kuroo answers, and for the hundredth time since Kuroo had arrived three days ago, Daichi wants to say it out loud: I’m happy that you’re here. I’m happy that you decided to come to me for once. I’m happy that you like it. I’m happy.  
  
He doesn’t say a word of it.  
  
*  
  
“Look, that one there is the dragon, do you see it? The tail twists between ursa major and ursa minor…”  
  
“Oh, so its head is right above Hercules?”  
  
“Yeah, so to say…if you look all the way down to the horizon, you can just make out Scorpio and Sagittarius, there….and there! Those two are mostly visible in summer, so it’s lucky we are here right now…”  
  
Kuroo turns his head to Daichi, arm still stretched upward into the night sky like a lighthouse, the star at the pinnacle of his finger the promise of safety, the warning of cliffs, careful now, do not crash.  
  
He’s smiling, unguarded, and Daichi begs his heart to stop being such an asshole for once today.  
  
“How do you know so much about constellations, anyway,” he asks instead, having no control over his reactions to Kuroo, and shifts around on the grass to find a position slightly more comfortable. Kuroo’s leg brushes his when he laughs.  
  
“I don’t know, Sawamura, how do you know so much about Chinese pottery? Or dragon ball trivia?”  
  
“Listen, that show was _gold_ okay, I-”  
  
“I know, I know, your favorite show as a kid, your childhood hero worship-”  
  
“Shut up, Kuroo.”  
  
And Kuroo does, giggling softly, arm coming down with a dull thud right next to Daichi’s. From one second to the next, as if the possibility of it had not been a thought worth acting on before, Daichi’s blood accelerates to a mind-blowing rush in his ears. He keeps staring into the sky, following the lines of stars Kuroo had pointed out with his eyes, repeating their names in his head over and over again, yet nothing is as loud as his own heartbeat he’s drowning in, nothing as overwhelming as the possibility to move his hand, an inch, a half, to hold Kuroo’s.  
  
He chickens out. To the sound of their exhales and the leaves rustling gently as if unaware, to the cicadas’ cackling in amusement and the stream bubbling along somewhere nearby, in the last second before his fingers would have, by estimation, since all Daichi can do is guess, brushed Kuroo’s, his hand flies up, flexing knuckles, and fingers point at a rectangle that looks like it might just be another constellation. Daichi can’t remember if Kuroo had told him about that one. His voice, when he tries to speak, sounds weird to Daichi’s own ears.  
  
“The…the one to the right next to Hercules…”  
  
Kuroo, unsurprisingly, takes Daichi by surprise.  
Their hands brush when Kuroo’s arm parallels with Daichi’s, light against the dark of the night, and then, touch, as their fingers slide into each other. Kuroo pushes gingerly, moving their joined hands another inch farther to the right across the map of the city of stars in the sky so brilliant and breathtaking above them (The night is beautiful and yet, Daichi wonders, why he doesn’t even really notice. Why he doesn’t even really care.). Kuroo points, his voice melts into the wind.  
  
“That really prominent almost orange fucker right there…That’s Arcturus. A little above it is a pentagon, can you see?”  
  
Daichi nods, despite knowing Kuroo can’t tell.  
  
“If you connect those five and connect the two closest to Arcturus to it and add another line here…and there…” Kuroo keeps drawing with their locked hands, “you get Bootes, the herdsman.”  
  
“I see…”  
  
Daichi can follow the form Kuroo is trying to make him see, but his voice betrays him again and Kuroo laughs, delicately, silk pulled across Daichi’s skin. He shivers, and pins it on the non-existent cold of the night.  
  
“We should come back here tomorrow, so I can test you on your knowledge.”  
  
It probably isn’t meant to be a whisper, Daichi thinks, but somehow the world quieted down around them, and Kuroo’s voice is a special sound.  
  
“I can’t give you any promises”, he mumbles back, sighing carefully, causing Kuroo to join in a row of chuckles. Their arms come to the ground naturally, and Kuroo’s hand is warm around Daichi’s, as if it has kept and absorbed all the warmth of the sun earlier.  
  
“You can’t promise we will come back or you can’t promise you will remember anything?”  
  
“I can’t promise I’ll remember the name Bootes,” Daichi says, a little breathless with nervous half-laughs and the scent of summer grass. In a moment of physical need to do so, he looks away from the stars and instead, at Kuroo.  
  
Kuroo, as it turns out, is already looking at him.  
  
“Don’t worry,” is what Kuroo says then, turning onto his side to face Daichi properly, and that is when Daichi thinks his heart will stop.  
Maybe, when Kuroo leans in, and a murmur of “I’ll teach you again”, faint when spoken, grazes Daichi’s neck, it really does.  
  
Daichi would remember a lot of this day, later, but nothing as vividly lethal as the way Kuroo’s mouth parted for his.

**Author's Note:**

> listEN;


End file.
